


50. When in Rome

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [50]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings for face slapping and heavy verbal humiliation</p>
    </blockquote>





	50. When in Rome

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for face slapping and heavy verbal humiliation

When Antony and Stephen arrive at Citadel Roma, it's been almost a full day since they left their home in Los Angeles. The drive to the airport, three hours there, the flight to Zurich, a few hours on the ground, the flight to Rome and finally, the long fucking drive to the mansion, discreetly hidden away on a side street in the centre. Antony's exhausted but again, it's been almost 24 hours since he's been able to touch his boy. He links their fingers the moment they're inside the building and smiles over at Stephen. "How're you doing, beautiful?" he asks as they wait for the front desk clerk to check them in.

Stephen's feeling a mix of things, he's tired, but excited, on edge but centred. The journey has been long, and not altogether easy, not when he's had to be on his guard against touching Antony in anyway that might be misconstrued. "I need a long hot shower, a cold beer, and some skin on skin," he smiles, leaning into his lover for a moment. "In that order."

"That works for me," Antony murmurs, giving Stephen a kiss simply because he can, finally. "Acqua calda?" he asks the clerk as he hands over the keys to their room.

"Si, signore," the young man responds with a smile. "Sempre." Explaining that their bags have already been taken to their room.

"Grazie," Antony gives Stephen another kiss. "They already took our bags up. We're on the third floor, but there's no lift," he adds, pointing towards the stairs on the far side of the foyer.

"Cool, I could do with stretching my legs a little," Stephen smiles his own thanks to the clerk as they head over to the stairs. "Though, the moment I just said that...I realised I may end up regretting it," he winks at Antony, "That was the longest day of my life! Not being able to touch you or anything," he makes a sound of disgust.

"I know," Antony says. "I'm used to having to censor myself for my work, keep certain things quiet, talk around them, but that's work. This just... sucks," he finishes with a laugh and another kiss as they slowly make their way up. "But you're worth it." He grins.

"I'm so glad you feel that way," Stephen's own face creased up in a grin. He lets out a long sigh, "I cannot believe I've got all this time off, yay for mid season breaks and all that shit." The idea he's got so much down time with Antony is a heady one - it also means he'll be able to spend some quality time in role.

"And yay for breaks that mesh," Antony adds. It seems like forever since Fiji.

"You'd have made the time," Stephen observes with a shoulder bump, "I know you wouldn't have missed this."

"I might have tweaked a job or two," Antony confesses, eyes crinkling at their corners. "The new guy's actually pretty good, which has taken some of the pressure off."

"So no bitching from Marcus huh?" He kinda hopes that he and Marcus had reached an understanding when they'd met. It's dawning on Stephen he does have some power over Antony in that regard - though he'd be loathe to use it - and the thought is unsettling to say the least.

"Yeah, he's good," Antony says, turning into the hallway from the landing. "Here we are." The old-fashioned key used to open the door.

"Oh!" Stephen gives the room the once over and his eyes widen. "I still can't get used to how beautiful Citadel do things, this is stunning," he steps in and lets his bag slide from his shoulder. "Sure this isn't the honeymoon suite?" he teases throwing Antony a grin.

"We can pretend it is," Antony teases back. "But then you might not get your shower," he adds, giving Stephen's ass a quick squeeze through his jeans.

"Oh I think once you got me naked you'd be sending me in for one, I'm all travel funky, it's disgusting." He drops his bag on a nearby chair and steps up to slide an arm around Antony's waist. "You joining me? Or shall I shower first and then attend to you?"

"You go first," Antony says, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. "Sorry."

"S'okay." He presses a quick kiss to Antony's cheek. "Won't be long," he backs up and heads in the direction of what he assumes is the bathroom. When he steps in he laughs, calling out, "Tony! You should see it in here, I think the toilet is made of marble!"

Antony sticks his head in the bathroom and laughs. "Everything's marble in Italy," he says. "I trust you know that's not a second toilet?" he kids, nodding at the bidet.

Stephen snorts at that and picks up a hand towel to bunch up and throw it at Antony's head. "Do I look like an ignorant fuck?" he laughs. "Go find us some beer, I'll be right out," he starts to toe off his shoes and pull his hoodie off over his head.

Antony heads back into the other room, chuckling, towel in hand. He grabs a beer from the mini-bar and cracks it open, settling in a chair and taking a long swallow, his eyes closed for a moment when he hears the shower start running.

Hot as ever, the shower is quick and efficient, Stephen steps out of the large shower unit and wraps a towel around his waist, pulling another around his neck which he uses to towel off his hair. He runs his tongue over his teeth and grimaces, but his toiletries bag is back out in his luggage. He steps back into the bedroom, and finds Antony slumped in a chair, beer bottle precariously balanced on his knee and held in slack fingers. Smiling Stephen moves over, quiet as he can be and lifts the bottle from his lover's hand.

Antony startles, eyes flashing open, and he quickly sits up. His heart rate slowing as he realises where he is and with who. "Fuck, sorry, I just closed my eyes for a second."

Even Stephen jumps back at the speed of Antony's reaction. He blinks and stills as he watches his lover come to full awareness. "S'okay, why don't you go shower and then we can sleep?" he asks softly. "Hmm?"

Antony shakes his head. "If I sleep now, I won't be able to sleep tonight. We can grab a quick nap but that's about it."

"That's what I meant, you think I'm gonna be able to let you go unmolested for long?" He offers Antony a hand to pull him up out of the chair. "C'mon."

Antony smiles at that and lets Stephen pull him to his feet. He doesn't usually get hit with jet lag, given how much he travels but this time, Christ, he feels like he's moving through fucking molasses.

"I'll be in to brush my teeth," he calls after Antony. He heads over to their luggage and digs out both their toiletry bags. When he steps into the bathroom, Antony is already under the water. Stephen makes short work of scrubbing his teeth and when he's done, the only place he's headed - is bed.

The shower works wonders and by the time Antony joins Stephen in bed, he's pretty much wide awake. "Did you still want a beer?"

"No," Stephen shakes his head and reaches to the bedside for a small leather pouch - inside of which is his slave collar - "I want my Sir," he offers Antony the bag. "Please?"

Antony nods, taking the bag from Stephen. He switches out the collars, clicking the padlock into place. "This looks so right on you," he says, running his fingers over it.

"Of course it does," Stephen's all smiles as he puts aside the pouch and his day collar. "But you know what else looks even better on me?" he leans in to slide a hand around Antony's neck as he seeks out a kiss. "You."

Antony presses close, yanking the covers out of the way and kissing Stephen thoroughly, every pent-up urge from the last 24 hours coming to the fore.

Stephen gives as good as he gets, letting his own need bleed out, he kisses back just as hungrily, biting into Antony's mouth as he drops onto his back, pulling his Sir on top of him as he splays his thighs. His cock is already hard, and it leaves a damp smudge on Antony's hip as he wraps his foot around his lover's ankle.

Shifting into that perfect spot, his cock already nudging between Stephen's thighs, between his cheeks, Antony kisses him again and again, tongues tangling, teeth nipping, fuck, growling into Stephen's mouth.

He wants more, he wants to be pinned down, he wants abuse spat in his face as his Sir takes him, so to that end Stephen starts to push back. At first it appears he's trying to push Antony from him. Even as he's humming his own hunger against his Sir's tongue, there's a drag of nails, designed to score flesh, to incite a reaction.

It doesn't take much to slide into that mindset, Antony quickly getting the hint. He growls deeper, pulling back to slap Stephen across the face. "That how you want to play it, you fucking little whore? You want to pretend you don't want this, you cunt?"

 _Fuck!_ The slap, the slap is unexpected and perfect, Stephen slowly turns his face back to stare up at his Sir. "I'm not your fucking whore...or your cunt," he growls back, blue eyes flashing. "I'm not giving it up to you..." And now, now he knows Antony is on board, he starts to struggle in earnest.

"You want to bet, _slut_?" Antony smirks, slapping Stephen again before he pins his wrists to the bed and thrusts against him, mindful of the fact that his boy's not prepped. Christ. "You want to bet you're not going to end up with my cock up your ass, howling like a fucking banshee as you come your brains out..."

"Fuck you," Stephen spits again, before digging his heels in the bed and using that as leverage to try and throw his Sir off him, it's enough to catch Antony off balance and Stephen gets one hand free to shove hard against his chest, "Get the fuck off me."

"Make me," Antony retorts, coming back for more, using his body weight to pin Stephen hard against the mattress, grab lube from the bedside table. "You fucking pussy."

The urge to fight, to make Antony take this from him is fading - replaced by the warm buzz of his subspace, his words are gone, and his struggles are nothing more than a show of resistance - but what he does still need is that verbal humiliation that always pushes him down hard.

"You're nothing but a dirty little fuck pig," Antony says, leaning in hard with one shoulder as he gets his fingers slicked, shoves them between Stephen's thighs, certain his boy could give him a real run for his money if he ever chose to. "Made to be fucked, bred, your fucking cunt wrecked..."

Stephen makes a choked noise, one of explicit want, of utter arousal. His eyes appear to darken as his pupils blow wide, his skin colouring up in a hot flush. When his Sir's fingers penetrate him he's bearing down moments later, wanting that stimulation, desperate for the preparation, because he knows what follows will be perfect.

"Look at you," Antony says, shaking his head, roughly working his fingers in and out, stretching Stephen open. "Fucking cunt opening just like that. Fucking sucking my fingers in. You're nothing but a fucking pig, a fuck toy..."

"Fuck me, please!" Stephen grinds out, his voice rough and raw. "Fuck me, please Sir...please I need it, I need to be used, boy has to know he is nothing but Sir's toy...I'm begging you...Sir...please,"

"You need?" Antony says, working another finger inside Stephen. "What about deserve, pig? Do you _deserve_ to have my cock inside you, you worthless piece of shit?"

"Yes Sir!" Despite knowing on every level this is play, Stephen experiences a sudden rush of fear that he _won't_ get what he wants, what he needs. "This pig is yours, your hole, your cum dump, pleaseplease use him," Stephen's words are rushed and pleading. "Boy is your fuck toy..."

 _Boy is your fuck toy._ Arousal coursing through his veins, Antony pulls his fingers free, thickly slicks his cock and lines up, hiking Stephen's legs over his hips as he shoves in hard.

It's _always_ a tight fit, his Sir really is that big...it's frequently painful for the first moments, just as it is now, Stephen experiences that familiar struggle to relax into the pain, to let it bleed away and let his body give...to enable his Sir to _take_.

He keens, low and rough, eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he opens them to focus on his Sir.

"That's it. Fucking take it, bitch," Antony growls, pushing deeper when he feels that give, his cock throbbing hard in the hot clench of Stephen's body.

"Sir," Stephen slurs out the word as he feels his Sir bottom out, balls snug up against his ass. "This boy is your hole, your cum dump, please please use him..." He lets his body tighten around that thick dick that splitting him open.

"Yeah, and that's all you've ever wanted, isn't it?" Antony murmurs as he starts thrusting. "To be owned, used... fucked until the come runs out of you and you can't walk straight. To spread your legs like a dirty little bitch and take my seed so deep you can fucking taste it."

"Yes, all of that, all of that," Stephen lifts his head from the bed and opens his mouth to press a messy desperate kiss against his Sir's lower lip. "To be owned...by you...only ever you, my body yours to breed and break."

Christ. Antony pins Stephen's wrists to the bed and pounds into him, fucking him fast and hard, his pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.

Each punch of Antony's hips elicits a noise from Stephen, he grunts with each thrust, panting hard, sweaty and flushed as he works his body in perfect harmony against his Sir's, doing everything possible to aid Antony in finding his orgasm and making it perfect.

Every answering movement spurs Antony's arousal, his cock throbbing violently, plunged into his boy's body again and again. But he holds back, holds out, shoving in deeper, harder, letting the tension build and build until there's nowhere for it to go, until he's right at the edge, right there, and then finally, he gives in, surrenders, coming inside Stephen with a rough strangled cry, every fucking drop pumped into his boy with a few rough shudders.

As his tongue slides over sweaty skin, Stephen curls his legs around his Sir, his wrists are still pinned and he's no longer struggling, instead he goes limp, savouring the heat deep inside himself.

Antony drops down and seeks out Stephen's mouth, licking into it. "I love you," he whispers, cock still buried deep inside his boy, his pleasure still rippling through him.

Brushing his lips over his Sir's mouth Stephen smiles, "I love you too, you're amazing."

"Amazing given a whole fucking day of travel," Antony murmurs, smiling at the kiss, his grip on his boy's wrists finally loosening. He eases out and rolls to the side, pulling Stephen in close. "How are you holding up?"

"My life sucks right about now," Stephen laughs as he brings his arms down to rub lightly at each wrist in turn. He stretches out, and wriggles his toes before turning in curve of Antony's arm to snug up close.

Antony laughs too and kisses Stephen, unable, as always, to get enough of his boy. "I'm going to set my watch for an hour," he says, managing to do so without letting go of Stephen. "After that, we should go out, look around our neighbourhood at least."

"Yes Sir," Stephen sets his cheek on Antony's shoulder, and closes his eyes. "Then you'll feed me?" he asks, voice softer now as he prepares to snooze. "Sugar?"

"All the sugar you want," Antony promises, another kiss brushed across Stephen's temple.

"Hmm, thank you," Stephen hums - now he's letting himself relax sleep comes on quickly, especially here in his Sir's arms.


End file.
